


The Space Between Them

by trash4ficsaboutlurv



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Just Sex, No Plot/Plotless, post season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4061506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash4ficsaboutlurv/pseuds/trash4ficsaboutlurv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Matt do what we've all been dying for them to do</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Space Between Them

**Author's Note:**

> my lovely doomed otp, sigh  
> first fic, be gentle

The cacophony of smells in Claire's apartment building--dinners cooked three nights ago, trash that should have been put out already, fresh laundry not yet cool from the dryers--if he concentrated, Matt could smell Claire even through the confusion of these other scents. She smelled like her shampoo, her bath soap, her laundry detergent, the antiseptic she used at the hospital. She smelled sweet and clean, but under that layer of civilized grooming, she smelled dark and warm. Her scent didn't have a name in the English language, but it was comforting and exciting and familiar and new. Matt climbed the stairs, following that perfume to her door. He lifted his hand and knocked.  
"Who is it?" she called. She was on the other side of the apartment, near the kitchen. She wasn't expecting anyone. Matt cleared his throat.  
"Matthew," he said, not very loudly, but loud enough.  
Her heartbeat quickened. Was she scared or just excited? He listened as Claire set a piece of silverware on the counter, wiped her damp hands on her pants, and walked to the door. She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, grabbed the doorknob--  
"You don't have to let me in," Matt said. "I'm not hurt."  
Claire's grip on the door slackened, but she didn't let go. "Are you okay?" she asked.  
"I'm not hurt," Matt repeated.  
He heard Claire's sigh of exasperation. She had meant for him to, he could tell. He smiled.  
"That's not what I asked," she said. She pulled the door open.  
Matt leaned against the door's frame and Claire looked him up and down. She hadn't seen him in his suit yet.  
"So you're Daredevil now," she said. She sounded amused.  
"So they say." He smiled and Claire's heartbeat quickened again. It felt invasive, hearing her emotions like this. He almost wished he could turn it off. Almost.  
"What do you want?" Claire asked. She folded her arms over her chest. She did that when she was nervous. Covered her heart.  
"To come in?" Matt suggested.  
"And then?"  
"A beer if you have one."  
Claire turned away from the door and Matt stepped inside. "You know what I mean," she said. She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Bottles tinkled. Caps were popped off. "Here," she said and thrust a beer into his hand.  
The condensation was cold and slick against his palm. He brought the bottle to his mouth, took a long swig. "Thank you, Claire," he said.  
Claire sat down on the sofa and tucked her feet under. The smell of her was almost dizzying this close up. Matt had missed her. Intellectually, he'd known he would miss her. But being here, so very close to her, among all her things and the heady smell of her, he realized how much he had been ignoring this simple fact. He missed Claire.  
He took a seat across from her and pulled off his mask. "The last time we spoke," he began, "you said you would patch me up."  
Claire nodded, sipped her beer quietly.  
"And beyond that..." Matt continued, then lost his nerve. "Karen is at my place," he said.  
Claire fidgeted. "Your secretary?"  
"Yes," Matt answered. "She is having...nightmares."  
"I'm sorry," Claire said. Heat emanated from her.  
"What?" Matt asked, responding to this change without thinking.  
"Nothing." Lie. "I--it's nothing." Lie again.  
Matt closed his eyes. She deserved the right to lie to him, to hide something of herself from him. "I can't go home," he admitted. "She says I make her feel safe, but I--I have my own nightmares."  
Claire breath hitched. "I can't patch that up," she said and abruptly rose and walked into the kitchen.  
"What are you doing?" he asked.  
"Beer," she answered, although she hadn't finished her first one. It was on the table between them, still half-full. Half-empty, maybe.  
Claire just wanted the distance. "So, you came here to tell me you're having bad dreams?" she asked. She didn't sound mocking or angry. She sounded like a woman who just wanted the facts.  
Matt ran his hand through his hair. It was too long and he needed a haircut. "I came to see if you were having nightmares, too."  
Claire snorted. "Matt, it's been two months."  
"Yes."  
"And you're only wondering now?" Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.  
He shrugged, tried to smile. "I was in the neighborhood."  
"Karen, is she by herself tonight?"  
Matt shook his head. "I left her with Foggy. He, uh, he likes her. She likes him, too. She just doesn't know it yet."  
"You've been listening to her heartbeat, then? Smelling her pheromones?" Claire asked. She had drifted back into the living room.  
"I know my friends," Matt said. He tilted his head to the side, inhaled, and listened. "You haven't had any friends over." He didn't say it as a question and he didn't let Claire deny it. "You've been alone. It's not good to be alone."  
Claire snorted again. "Who am I going to tell that I was abducted by Russians, beaten and tortured, saved by Daredevil and sworn to secrecy about his identity? Hmm?"  
"You could tell me. Matthew Murdock, attorney-at-law and all-around good guy."  
"You're Daredevil in that suit," Claire pointed out.  
"I'll just have to get out of this suit, then."  
His words hung in the air.  
Thump. Thump. Thump.  
"I didn't mean--"  
"I know what you meant." Claire drank the rest of her beer in one go and Matt followed her lead.  
"I shouldn't have come here," Matt apologized. He stood up. "I should have called."  
"Yeah," Claire said. Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump. "That probably would have been better."  
Matt tilted his head. "Do you believe that?"  
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump. "You tell me."  
And then even Matt couldn't tell who made the first move, but suddenly they were crashing into each other and this kiss was nothing like their first. It was as raw and broken as they were. Claire tunneled her hands into his hair and his hands went from her waist to her butt, pulled her in closer, closer, there was too much space between them. Neither seemed to want to come up for air. Matt's head was so full of Claire--how she felt, sounded, smelled, tasted--he forgot everything else. He forgot his nightmares and Karen's. He forgot how unmoored he'd felt since putting Fisk away. He forgot everything but this.  
Claire's lips were so soft. Her shuddering breaths against his mouth sent eddies of pleasure through him and his armor felt too tight and heavy. He tried to slow down by pulling away, but Claire followed him hungrily and he couldn't say no. She kissed him like he had the breath of life. Without breaking apart, he pulled her back on to the sofa. She kissed his chin, his jaw, that special spot behind his ear that made him arch up into her.  
"Wait," he gasped. He pulled her back by her shoulders.  
Their heartbeats were on the same crashing rhythm. "Don't make me think about what we're doing," she begged.  
"Just wait," he said again. His voice was as ragged as hers. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, focused on his heartbeat. Slowly, Claire's heart and breathing synced up with his. He pressed his hand to her chest. "You're not scared," he said.  
"No," she said.  
'"You want this?"  
"Yes," she said.  
He cupped her face in his hands, ran his thumbs across her cheekbones and nose, her eyelids, her lips. They parted and she flicked her tongue out to moisten them. Matt traced her cupid's bow, then dragged his thumb across her full lower lip.  
"What do you see?" she asked and her breath tickled his fingers.  
"I see you," he said simply. "And you have the most beautiful mouth."  
Claire smiled. "You are quite the charmer, Matthew Murdock."  
Matt drew her in closer. "No charm. Just facts." And then he kissed her. Softly. Gently. Delicately. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world, like they had a lifetime of kisses in front of them, because wasn't it nice to pretend?  
Claire broke the kiss to pull her t-shirt over her head. He heard the unclicking of her bra. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. "Feel my heart," she said. Matt could hear her smile. She dragged his hands down to cover her breasts. They were soft. Perfect handfuls. She sighed and he kneaded them gently. She arched into his touch. "Kiss me," she said.  
And he did. He swept his tongue across her lower lip, searched the moist cavern of her mouth, where she met him in a gentle sparring. He caressed her breasts, her sides, her back. He pinched her nipples until she gasped with pleasure, then he lifted her up in his lap and took her into his mouth. Kissing, biting, sucking. Anything to make her heart beat this fast, her breath catch just so in her throat. She was fairly quiet in her passion, but Matt heard what she wasn't saying. More. Like that. Yes, like that.  
"Out," she gasped. "Out, out of the suit."  
"Oh," Matt said, so focused on the satiny feel of her, he hadn't considered how uncomfortable his armor would be for her.  
He lifted her off his lap and stood. "This won't be very sexy," he warned as he unbuckled, unzipped, and unlatched the various elements of his suit.  
Claire watched him. He could feel the heat of her skin, smell the musk of her, almost taste the essence of her in the air. He wanted to freeze-frame this moment with all its sensory components intact.  
Finally he stood before her naked.  
She stood. "I thought I wouldn't see you like this again until you had a knife hanging out of your side," she said. She traced the scar along his rib cage. "I remember this one." She bent and kissed the skin there. "And this one." She kissed the scar beneath his collar bone. "And this." She traced the long groove in his back from his fight with Nobu. "You're more scars than skin." She kissed his mouth to stop his words. "It's okay," she said against his lips. "I wouldn't know what to do with a well man."  
Matt groaned as she squeezed his growing cock in her hand. His hips jerked forward, eager and aroused. Claire kissed an unwavering line from his lips to his chest to his navel to his dick. She started with kisses along the length of him, fluttery and faint. Then she moved to a combination of stroking and licking that made stars pop in Matt's head. He reached out for something to steady himself, but they were standing in the middle of the room. His groans were loud and turned to unintelligible love words and promises as Claire took him in her hot, wet mouth and sucked. "Claire," he said in a strangled voice.  
She pulled away, but not before kissing his upper thighs and jutting hip bones. "Do your heightened senses make you a quick shooter?" she joked.  
"It might have more to do with you than me," Matt said shakily. "And now, I think it's your turn."  
A fresh wave of heat came off Claire as he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.  
He placed her on her back and shouldered himself between her thighs to where the smell of her was strongest. Soap and that something unique and wondrous and decadent.  
She trembled with expectation and need and he traced the lips of her sex with his fingers, starting from the outside and working inward until he came to her weeping core. She was so deliciously wet. He enjoyed the dew of her arousal, the slippery feel. He started over from the outside in, spreading the moisture around. Outside in. Again. And again. And again. Until Claire's legs were trembling and her hips were off the bed and she made a muffled threat if he didn't make her cum.  
He slid two fingers inside her. She gasped his name and the sound of it was no different from pain. He rubbed and searched inside her until she jerked forward. He had found that cluster of nerves so often neglected. He rubbed it with increasing pressure and she squirmed against him, tried to close her legs against the sensation, but Matt was relentless. He held her open to his ministrations with one hand and pleasured her with the other. She balled her fists in the sheets and gasped as the pressure built.  
"Oh god, oh yes, oh please, oh oh oh oh!" She teetered on the edge and Matt took her clit between his lips and sucked hard, pushing her over. She shuddered once, twice, three times. And he stayed with her, pressed hot, open kisses against her entrance until she fell back panting and spent. He moved up her body and pressed himself into her wetness.  
"Claire," he said, "are you with me?" She was so hot it was almost a pain. Almost.  
She nodded and brought her legs around his waist to nudge him deeper. "Yes," she sighed.  
He rocked against her, concentrated on this ecstasy. For once, he couldn't hear the sirens of the city. Or feel the cotton sheets pulling at his skin. Or anything but Claire. He felt her inner muscles clamped on his hardness, felt the silkiness of her thighs against the roughness of his own, tasted the sweetness of her mouth, still flavored with beer. He saw her like a consuming fire. And he wanted to be consumed in her heat. He thrust into her desperately, frantically. And she rose to meet him. And he wanted to give her more. He put his hands under her hips and adjusted his angle slightly so that every thrust put friction on her clit. She grasped at his arms as she felt another orgasm coming and Matt raced headlong with her.  
“Claire, I—Claire!”  
And as she bucked against him, he pulled out of her and exploded against the sheets.  
Gasping, he fell beside her. Their breaths were loud in the quiet apartment. "Sorry," he gasped. "You just washed these."  
Claire reached out a hand and Matt clutched it to his chest. "It's fine," she said. "It's fine."  
Her heartbeat and breathing slowed, soothed Matt. Cautiously, he pulled her into his arms and she came to him. She nuzzled against his chest, placed a hand on the long scar on his rib cage. He held her close; there was still too much space between them.


End file.
